The Writer Inside

Down deep is a writer. A man yearning to express more than just the mundane day to day. A minstrel, or maybe more a gypsy, wrapped inside a poet's soul, walking around in normal man's clothes. I am that man.  Trying to be a father, husband, a worker, and a good man, but also desiring to express the inner sanctum of my thoughts and being in words and music.  The struggle is epic. To deny one side leans towards losing all the relationships, the safety and stability I've worked for. But to deny the other, well that one is so, so devastating inside.

So how do I begin? Do I take the sad tale of a child that was wrongly removed from innocence, or do I take the young man who loved the thought of girls, creating poetry with words and melodies and being in a rock 'n roll band?  Or do I start from the unraveling of all the years of trying to be something I wasn't? Trying to find peace with no real healthy outlet.

I think I'll just take now. Where I've walked through so many things with more strength than I ever thought I could muster, and quite honestly crawling through at times with no strength at all. Now faced with the added addition of a larger family, a house that just HAS to become a home, and a man who still is longing for something deeper to give his thoughts and long lost dreams to.

Inside I won't be denied this any longer. And so I take pen to paper, try to break the rust off years being told I wasn't good enough, being told that it was something I could never succeed at.  Every day I write. Every day I find a thought or a notion that I put to paper. Every day I find something that allows me to let the inside speak. Some days the words flow so richly on the page, but others it's a quest for something to even inspire. But no matter what, I take the blank canvas before me and brush it with the ink of my thoughts, my tears and my joys. The ultimate me. In sadness. In laughter. And in peace.


7/19/16
clc

A Jedi's Guide to the Dark Side

Depression runs deep in us.  It's discussed.  Chronicled in medical journals. Glorified in the movies, and television. Scoffed at by those who don't understand it.  But it is real.  I can attest to that.  It lingers deep inside many of us and it can be overwhelming at times.  I know this because I'm just at the tail end of one of those periods of depression that remind me all to clearly of my past – my failures – my defeats – and even my triumphs.  But to chronicle my own struggles as of late – and how I've decided to move through them, I have decided to channel the great voice of Yoda…

“Listen, You Must”  LOL

So I present you with “a Jedi’s Guide to the Dark Side”:

I picture him sitting amidst the swamps of Dagobah, maybe at peace, but also in retreat.  Waiting for the ‘new hope” that he knows is coming.  Maybe he’s a Jedi master, but he might have also been battling a little tinge of the loss, the hopelessness…

Wait!  This is Yoda I’m talking about!

“Fear is the path to the dark side…fear leads to anger…anger leads to hate…hate leads to suffering.”

I know my own fears.  I know them so well that they don’t keep me up at night.  They invade all hours of my day.  When I am at my best, I am laughing and full of life.  In search for new projects and adventures.  At my worst, I am sullen.  I am broken and hiding inside the shell I dwell in.  The fear that he speaks of is so similar to the walls that start pressing in when depression is at it’s damnedest.  Anger.  Hate.  Suffering.  They come and find those places that are weakest and try to get a hold.  Try to take the life I have and turn it into something deformed.  Gross.  Weak.

There is my own secret place where I open up and fight it.  But there is also the place that I go to hide.  Like the almost forgotten planet where Luke first finds his new master.  Away from everything that I know, in that place I can either hide in anonymity or fight.  Train.  Grow in the thing the movies call the force. Find my purpose and give myself to being what I know I was born to be.  Which leads me to his next quote…

“That is why you fail.”

This comes in response to Luke doubting his own abilities – unable to raise his X-wing from the swamp.  Depression seems to find those areas where we have potential and instead of cheering us on – reminds us of our faults and insecurities.  The ways we don’t measure up.  Can’t ever measure up.  Our physical looks.  Our hearts.  Our abilities.  Our passions.  Finding SOMETHING to believe in is huge.  But this starts with who we are.  I’m not even kidding myself to think that I’ll ever be a mathematician or an astronaut (though that one would be REALLY cool!).  You have to be honest with yourself and others around you – the ones you trust.  I do deal with Depression. HEY, IF YOU’RE READING THIS – IF YOU DON’T GET ANYTHING ELSE FROM THIS BLOG, PLEASE GET THIS!  I struggle with this at times.  To the point that I know when I’m in a bad place and can admit it.  I did that over the holidays.  It sucks.  We worship superman and the heroes we idolize, but we are not bulletproof.  I’ve got plenty of the Dark Side, Kryptonite, Ghosts haunting me to never forget this.

But I do believe…

Maybe not today.  But soon.

That I will NOT FAIL!

I wake with the continued hope in what is out there.  In what I believe and knowing that even when it just sucks that there is a bigger life for me.

But here is the kicker, the final quote to draw from…

“Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

Isn’t that so simple.  Nike used “just do it!” for years, but this gives both sides of the discussion.  Either we DO something about where we’re at, or we DO NOT.  It’s not so clear what the outcome is if we do find the balls to DO – to move forward.  But I can assure you what will happen if you DO NOT.  Pain.  Fear.  Anger.  Suffering.

Find peace in knowing that you are not alone.  In even the worst of times know that there are SOOOOO many others who are in the same place.  Finding Truth (even if it’s the truth that the most evil person in the galaxy is your father…).  Finding Peace.  Finding a New Hope.

signing off

she sang...

"It's quarter to three, there's no one in the place except you and me
So, set 'em up, Joe, I got a little story you oughta know
We're drinkin', my friend, to the end of a brief episode
Make it one for my baby and one more for the road"

It was the end of an era.  Johnny's farewell.

"I bid you a very heartfelt goodnight" was his simple closure to the on-air life of a TV legend.  No one did it quite the way he did.  And though many have tried, I don't know if anyone will come close to his wit and satire.  His life off the screen was private, but he shared a persona that many of us grew to think of as a friend, a family member who allowed us to meet stars, hear incredible music and experience "Carnac"!

And she sang to his leaving the screen.  Retiring and closing the chapter on his historic run.

Bette's Goodbye to Johnny

So at the end, what is the way you want to leave?  Like the stars, we often see the production, the farewell tour, the last curtain call.  But in our lives we have moments that lead to the end.  They may not come with the celebration, the serenades, the lead up to the final episode, but they come for all of us.
How are you going to leave?  Not thinking about death, but focusing on life.  What do we leave behind?  Not guests or fame, but what treasures do we leave - and which ones do we take with us?

As my Dad watches closely the closing of his own mother's life, I am drawn to think more and more about legacy.  About the decisions that brought me to where I am today.  The three kids that I see sleeping as I put these words down.  The art, the music, the poetry that I have inside.  The beliefs that I still treasure - the ones that helped me stay here just a little longer.  The mountain air that I long for in my lungs.  The love that I still don't know if I do right.

There is still a spark inside me, and I hope to pass some of that along to those that are closest.  And there are still days - even recently - that I struggle.  So I press on.  I'm writing.  Seeing the world closest to me and trying to grasp the lessons that I still have to learn.

so she sings...

"Well, that's how it goes.
And john i know you're getting
Anxious to close.
So, thanks for the cheer.
I hope you didn't mind me
Bending your ear.

For all of the years,
For the laughs, for the tears,
For the class that you showed,
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road.

That long long road."

~ Bette Midler on Johnny Carson's retirement

sKin

we all have it.

some of us have a "thicker" skin.

some sensitive skin.

you may have skin that seems to glow.  or you may have a covering that you wish was more like the models on TV and magazines.

our physical form is something that I personally have struggled with for years.  and in many ways it is connected to my inner "skin" as well.

I was the fat kid in grade school.  the acne faced kid in high school who just couldn't go a day without some new bump or mark.

my skin has hung on my bones at times, and even in those times when I know I've been in the best shape of my life - it still was the part of me that I was most sensitive about.

"Chady Fatty"

"Big Boy"

"Fat A**"

just to name a few that come to mind as I'm writing this.

the words hurt.  but it was nothing to the way it made me feel so insecure and hyper-aware of my weight.  those thoughts seeped into my bones and made each look in the mirror something out of a bad fairy tale...

"mirror, mirror on the wall... who's the ugliest of them all"

and yes, I still struggle with this.


but WE are all Beautiful.

We were all fearfully and wonderfully made.

We radiate from something beyond our skin.  

We have parts of us that are just waiting to show the beauty that lies within.

Some of us may show this beauty more.  Some of us may mask it with the fear and self-loathing that I experienced.  But we are all beautiful creatures. 

There may need to be some internal 'tweaking' to get our insides to allow us to see that.  And yes, there are things that most of us may need to work on physically.  But this journey - life - it's a chance to do something each day to resonate that beauty.  

If you're angry - find something to be joyful about. 

If you're sad - find laughter.

If you're tired and weary - find peace in places beyond the mirror.  Beyond the facade.

I wear a mark on my arm.  It represents the balance that I long for in my life.

Physical - Mental - Spiritual

There is beauty in me.  I have a deep longing for the spirit that sings within me to grow and become even more of what I know it can be.  I have a mind that is quirky and unique, challenging and rebellious - sometimes even childlike, and I wouldn't change that for anything.  And I have beautiful blue eyes...

...just like my young son's.

Rites of Passage

Tomorrow my little girl (yes, I realize she's 15) is being baptized.

It's part of a decision that she made for herself.

I've really spent some time thinking about her life.  Since May, but in reality much longer.  The words I've shared and even sung about her will never capture her heart.  She's tentative at times, but I'm just waiting until she bursts out from that and blossoms forth into the person she already is inside.

So she made a choice.  I didn't push her into her beliefs.  And in reality, those beliefs are still being formed.  They will come from what she has already experienced, those she seeks wisdom from and mostly her own path.  That journey is one that I wouldn't trade anything to be even the smallest part of.  The voice inside her is strong, just not fully resounding yet.  Yet!

I am proud of her.

It makes me so emotional to think of them.  My three kids.  To watch each grow.  They will each have to find their own path to walk.

But tonight it's about my 'little girl'.  She is so special.  If you spend some time with her you'll know.  She's smart (though we still need to talk about grades!), sincere, mischievous, and beautiful.


Cambrey,

Take your place in this world.  Don't stand in anyone's shadow.  Embrace YOU!

...and never forget that you are loved.  Deeply by this old man who is slowly learning to let go of the 'little girl' and see the young woman that you are becoming.

I Love You.
Dad

The Hardest Day

2011. 

Four years ago this week. 

It still resonates with me today, though maybe not as deeply or as penetrating into the depths of who I am. But it's there.

It was the gauntlet that I decided to run. Instead of running away from the truth this time though, I was running towards a hopeful solution. Once 4am hit, a phone call came from a friend who I still don't know how they knew I was so desperate from across the miles, it was either live or die.

Live or Die.

I hadn't slept through the night. all the doubts and darkness of depression had become such a close friend that they came in and persuaded me to fester in my thoughts and to find all the darkness that was in my soul. I was grieved over my humanity, and was at the end of what I considered this feeble life I had lived.

I've written about the events that led up to that morning before, but today it's actually somber and sobering to be driving the same drive that I drove four years ago. It was in the light that was breaking through that I first talked to a kind voice that assured me that I wasn't alone.  The voice that led me to talk to someone who was able to help deal with the issues.

But in pure Chad stubbornness, I said I still had to go to work.  I had to do my job. I had to do the drive to Athens.  The plan was that I would check in throughout the day, do my route, do the meeting I needed to do that night (it was rental season), and then head back to a safe place with a dear friend who would help make the decision on whether I needed to get further help or if I was ok.

So I drove. It wasn't a dark day, but the mood felt much like the rain that's lightly hitting the windshield today. Sometimes I've let my own stubbornness get in the way of health, and during the day I kept trying to find ways to talk myself out of really getting to the root of the problem. I cowered at the thought of admitting again that I was broken, that I couldn't manage life alone, that I wasn't strong enough, wasn't good enough, that I was a failure. But I knew one thing from early on in my life, that I was able to keep pushing on. I knew how to keep moving.

Only four people knew what was going on that day. Myself, my counselor, Mike and Earl. And inside I didn't know if I had the true strength of character to really make it through.  I lashed out at a coworker who asked a question that I just didn't know how to answer. I would go from one school to the next weeping rivers of tears in between. Trying to find some reservoir of peace that was just cracked and empty inside.

About halfway through the day, I found an old country church and I went inside and sat and prayed. I won't say that I'm the most religious person. I have faith, but I also have doubts. All I know is that the same power that saved my life that morning was being prayed to. But God I still don't understand.  Just that there was some large spiritual presence that day.

There is a quote that goes "not all who wander are lost". I had been wandering a long time. Still have parts of my spirit that are finding their way. But on that day four years ago I found that I can climb the mountains. All that power inside me that was used just to try to get by could now be used for actually seeking answers and finding the path that made sense for me.

I drove throughout the rest of the day not quite a zombie, but as a man who was holding it together - knowing that the next checkpoint lay ahead. That the end wasn't near, but maybe the beginning.

More tears, more miles ahead, but I still drove on.

That night I spent in a place I had never dreamed of. A place that still scares me, with all the hurt and pain that flowed through it.  To see the inside of an institution where intellect and logic are thrown to the wolves and sanity is not even in attendance can take even the strongest hearts and break them.

Hospitals are for the sick, but they should always be a place that we try to move people out of, not have people stuck permanently within their walls.  Amidst the noise and all the commotion, I knew that I was going to be able to find my path. A small voice of steadying calm came, and I knew that I had reached as low as I could ever be. And in those moments I knew this was just my first climb up Mount Hope.

UKE the Wild!

It was a crazy thought.  In less than four weeks get ready for a strenuous trek through the Olympic National Park.  Four days removed from civilization, cell phones, work and stress.

My father-n-law made the suggestion.  We had tried the trip the year before and found ourselves knee deep in snow (in late June even), but this year the rain was down, the temps looked favorable and without too much of a pause, I said "yes!"  

Training was a blur, but I hit my normal hiking with a little extra weight on my back and a focus on the daily grind that the trip would bring.  But as I tried to get my legs and back to a place that would manage carrying my shelter, food and misc, I realized that I needed to also bring something for my spirit as well.

Ukulele is a passion of late.  I have always played music - be it percussion, drums, guitar, dulcimer, but this curious little instrument has found such a special place in my heart.  It sings with a voice that cuts through the negativity of the day and puts a smile on my face even when my heart is heavy.  It's compact and often not taken seriously, but it has a voice that is unmistakable and soothing.  Sometimes longingly singing a melody and other times full of the twangy blues that touches your soul.

So I decided to take a Uke into the Wild.  I own several (it's some strange compulsion that other Uke players have described in blogs and facebook).  But I also had found this wonderful place just on the other side of Atlanta - Uke Republic, and had an idea.  Take a waterproof, plastic Uke with me on the trip.  Take the journey and rigors and see just how the little guy would hold up.

Mike at Uke Republic obliged and I set off with a Kala Waterman Ukulele.

The trip started from Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson Airport to Seattle, Washington.  The next day I'd be in the truck and off towards the peak above Hart's Lake in the middle of the Olympics.  It was a time for me to bond with my father-n-law and also a time to recharge before my job ramped up in late July for the school year.

With my pack securely attached and the Uke right on the back, we headed out.  First day - 10 miles along the Duckabush.  A peaceful, almost vacant trail that allowed my thoughts to wonder as my feet wandered.  When I stopped for a pause, I would pull out the Waterman and strum some simple tune or some lingering melody that haunted my thoughts.  It was in these surreal moments that the melody combined with words to form the beginnings of a song.  

Each night I spent time around the campfire, strumming, writing, enjoying the simple joys of life in the wild.  Each day I found a few moments here and there to pluck.  The Ukulele responded and was exactly what I needed it to be - rugged, responsive and even resonant at times in it's voice.  

On the second day I fell.  Not just falling from tripping, but as I came down a long embankment my foot caught on a branch and I found myself thrust forward and down, 45 pound pack and all.  I knew that I had to throw my weight to the pack to avoid injury.  In that instant I wasn't thinking about the little instrument that was on the far back of the pack.  I came down hard.  Knees and back taking the blunt of the fall.  Once I got up and made sure nothing was injured or broken, I remembered the Uke.  Pulled it out and even though I know it was under everything, it remained intact.  Kudos to Kala for making it pretty near indestructable!

The journey was a beautiful adventure.  I wasn't able to make it all the way to the summit we had planned to reach, but I found solace in a place that captured more of my heart.  Amidst seeing a herd of elk, wild grouse, mountains that touched the sky and simple butterflies that would never know the world I had left, I found what I will always call 'home'.  The wild.

So if you have the opportunity to go, whether it be the Olympics, the hills of Georgia, Carolina's coast or anywhere you choose.  Take with you something that allows you to find your spirit and fly!

Uke the Wild!